


The Past Guides Future's Presents

by Miss_Macabre_Grey



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-up trainees, Historical AU, M/M, WWII reference, minor appearance changes to match minor age increases
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Macabre_Grey/pseuds/Miss_Macabre_Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin's life after graduating college held no appeal or excitement, not in comparison to his friends who had their lives well set. By hard work and luck, Armin obtains a position where he can do a bit more, but then a stranger escaping the rain had to mess up his contentment. Except, maybe destroying contentment is good, if that means Armin will be happy.</p><p>-Rating likely to increase</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ugly and Old

**Author's Note:**

> The story is loosely based off of a prompt by Sakiichi on tumblr, but I goofed and got the roles mixed up.  
> Key note that the characters are older and slightly more mature (physically). Armin is about two inches taller/seven centimeters taller, Eren is about an inch taller, Connieis about an inch taller. Most of the females will be the same appearance for the most part. Eren also has longer hair which I can probably show you when I have a computer later. I wanted Armin to have cute short hair, but it's about the same but pulled off his face more often. Er, yeah, I think that covers most of the intro. Just please reviewing you like or whatnot!  
> It's nearly two am, and I need to awaken soon for a competition. I'm so, so mad because it shouldn't be this late, but I spent over an hour trying to get this to format. It looks fine on my email, and sigfinalmen is djskgbeknsbckw anka. I am so done with the format right now.  
> (So sorry for any typos anywhere in this. I did what I could.)

"Will you marry me?" the request came out choked and broken, nothing at all like the usually upbeat voice. The small man stayed on one teetering knee, sweaty hands extended as he held the small, velvet ring box.

"I, wow, _yes_!" The woman exclaimed, ignoring all sense and jumping into her fiancé's arms. The woman had a few inches over the kneeling man, but he knew to expect her eccentrics. When she leaned down to kiss him, his knees collapsed, and they fell to the floor, laughing like they were fifteen years younger.

Armin watched them, not with an envious or devious stare, but one of longing for that type of happiness. From what the duo told Armin, Connie and Sasha had been friends since elementary school, and they only grew closer over the years. Armin clapped for the lovers as did most of the other graduates in the room, but the sound came out soft because fatigue. Everyone else radiated joy and energy, hopefulness and readiness for life. Armin just looked at the scholarly cap on his lap, trying to think of where to live since he could no longer stay on campus housing. Armin tried working as an intern, earned several accolades, but no decent job accepted him yet, none that related to his desired career. 

Connie and Sasha already had their life well set. The two moved in with each other the spring of their junior year into a nice apartment while they saved money for a nice home. Sasha already had a job working for a well-established restaurant while Connie started his own business. Armin saw no point in wishing them good fortune for the future because, despite acting so carefree, they had good heads on their shoulders and laid good foundations.

Armin planned to ask the couple if he could temporarily inhabit their home, but with the sudden engagement, the worried graduate knew that would be far too intrusive. Instead, he walked to his friends once they finished rolling around the floor in a childish, excited frenzy.

"Congratulations, guys," Armin offered with a kind smile and a few more small claps. "To think that everyone here thought the only interesting part would be graduating."

"Well, we're also graduating from the lame boyfriend-girlfriend status we've kept for, like, ten years. About time, I say," Sasha added. The woman stood up at about Armin's height, and about an inch more than Connie, but her jovial appearance made her seem like she stood twenty feet tall.

"Don't exaggerate, you idiot!" Connie blurted, blush in his cheeks. "You asked me to be your boyfriend exactly seven years ago at the end of sophomore year."

" _Exactly_ seven years?" Armin asked with a blond brow raised.

Connie nodded. "It's a date I wouldn't forget. Sasha picked me up and carried me around school all day. Stupid girl embarrassed me."

"Like you didn't embarrass _yourself_ for asking out this 'stupid girl."

Armin released a heart-fluttering laugh free of worries and open to happiness that sounded exactly like how a normal twenty-year-old man should sound like. The sudden burst of emotion caught Sasha and Connie's, so Armin decided to speak a little more. "That sounds like you two. I wish you the best in life: life filled with love, and happiness, and success."

"Well, don't make it sound like you won't be a part of that life, Arm. You're obligated to eat at the restaurant at least twice a month. We wouldn't have even graduated and gotten jobs without your help." Sasha hugged Armin, and Connie ruffled his blond hair.

"That's right. Don't think you can go and leave us. We need you and that clever head of yours. I'm going to need someone to find loopholes in government contracts for me when I start Connie's Candy Company with Sasha!"

Sasha stuck her tongue out at Connie. "Aren't I going to be the one making all the candy? Why don't I get some of the title? Like: 'Sha-nie Candy' or something." The woman slouched her body as she thought about her words, face crossed with disdain and disappointment. "Never mind. I can't think of something that sounds good."

"How about 'Blouse-Springs' Things'?" Armin suggested, not completely serious and deeply hoping the two would dislike it.

"Oh, that's good! We'll totally consider it. See why we need you, Armin," Connie agreed while Sasha nodded her head behind him with full support. Armin should have known better than to trust the two to have good sense.

Sasha and Connie hugged the small blond again, showing all the love they could as obnoxiously as they knew Armin could handle. The three laughed, the sound of happiness filling the air around them. For a moment, Armin felt as carefree as his friends.

"So, hey, Armin, what do you plan to do now?" Sasha asked, grabbing her cap and purse to leave.

"I have a bit in savings. I need to find a better job and a place to live. I think I can stay in a cheap motel for awhile. Just . . . depends, I guess."

Sasha and Connie paled. "Oh, Armin, no way! I meant what you wanted to do to celebrate, but no way are you giving your hard-earned savings to some horrid motel. Last time Connie and I stayed at one, we got bedbugs!"

"Sasha's right. Stay with us, man. You should have told us you needed to crash somewhere for a bit."

"But, uh, no, I can't. You two just got _engaged!_ Don't you want to, uh, _you know_ ," Armin blathered, unsure how to politely reject the very appreciated invitation.

"Oh," the two said in unison, a blush and smile on their faces.

"Don't worry about intruding on that. Connie and I would probably just grab a pizza and watch movies to celebrate. We've done the _thing_ before, so that's not so special as sharing our celebration with you."

"Thanks, guys. Just no drinking if I'm around. I'm not twenty-one until next month," Armin quipped, knowing the two had personalities that seemed naturally intoxicated, and he knew they should not risk getting drunk.

"Okay, okay. Hurry and grab your stuff. A lot of the others are already leaving, so we should hurry to our place before everyone clogs the roads. Just wear some of Connie's or my clothes to stay overnight. C'mon, guys!"

Connie scoffed. "You're just in a rush because you're hungry, aren't you?"

Sasha nodded so fast Armin wondered how her head stayed on her neck. "Let's gooo already."

"Heh. Yeah, okay. I'm set to leave. Thanks, um, for inviting me," Armin mumbled with his head low.

Sasha rushed ahead of the two men, claiming to be fastest and ready to drive the car closer to them. With Sasha gone and most of the room cleared out, Connie put a supportive hand on Armin's shoulder. The shorter male's honey eyes filled with understanding as they caught Armin's blue ones.

"Don't feel bad around us. You'll find the right guy, y'know? It can't always work like with me and Sash, but that doesn't mean it won't work for you eventually. And about the other stuff, please feel welcome to stay with us for awhile."

"Thanks, Connie," Armin responded with gratitude, giving a small bow. "You really aren't as dumb as people make you out to be," the blond added with a smirk.

"I AM LITERALLY HOLDING A COLLEGE DIPLOMA, YOU ASS!" Connie yelled, chasing Armin as the blond ran out to find Sasha.

***

Connie and Sasha awoke the morning after graduation with pounding headaches and an urge to kill Armin. The blond man slept more soundly on their beaten sofa than they had on their soft bed. Armin tried to monitor Sasha and Connie's drinking, and they vaguely remembered that, but they still envied how peaceful and refreshed he acted while any sudden loud noise irritated them. Not to mention the blond forced them to get out of bed at nine despite falling asleep at 3.

"Can you at least make breakfast?" Connie whined. The smaller male clutched his head and settled in a chair in the living room.

"Food's in the fridge and pantry," Sasha added. For being a respectable chef, she could not care less who made the food or with what so long as her stomach filled.

With a sigh of annoyance, Armin nodded and headed into the kitchen. "You two are worse than children."

Armin grabbed eggs from the fridge with some meat, vegetables, and spices. After a few moments of searching the cupboards for a pan, Armin began cooking an omelette for his incompetent friends. The blond almost cut himself dicing a tomato, and he put a tad too much black pepper in, but he continued to cook despite faults. Armin knew neither of his friends would be upset for his fumbling, so he grabbed two plates from a cupboard to serve the hungover couple.

Sasha and Connie sat limp in the dining room chairs, but Sasha darted for Armin once she smelled the food, snatching the plate from his hands without warning. While the starved woman ate, Armin walked to Connie hand him his meal. The small man ate with less than a quarter of the enthusiasm of his fiancée, but the look of gratitude he gave Armin satisfied the blond. Besides, a quarter of Sasha's enthusiasm for food surpassed most of he human population.

"Hey, I think I'm going to head out. I need to pack my stuff and head to work," Armin announced to the half-listening duo. Armin brushed his hair and fit into one of Connie's nicer, bigger shirts. Though lacking his usual appeal, Armin made the look appropriate for work and walked to the door.

"Huh? Didn't even take the day after graduation off?" Connie muttered in disbelief. "You can be such a workaholic. You barely have any debt with all the scholarships you had, so don't sweat it." 

Sasha groaned internally at the idea of stopping breakfast early, but she knew by watching Armin get ready that her friend needed help. "Want me to do anything for you?"

"No, thanks. At least, not while you and Connie are basically as useful as pool noodles."

Before either could respond to the teasing insult, Armin left. Armin's shift started at noon, but cleaning out his old living space would only take a few minutes since he already packed most of his possessions. The shop he worked at took ten minutes to reach from his old college by car, so he avoided rushing and being too stressed on his way to the college.

The campus could be smaller, but Armin never felt uncomfortable with the large size. Most students cleared out to commence summer holidays, and Armin wished he could be lucky enough to enjoy the summer like them, but he had a life to piece together that allowed no rest.

With every box he cleared from his old room and into his car trunk, the more Armin realized how little he could claim as his in the very large world. Armin owned a few books, a few clothes, his car, a brush, and a toothbrush. Somehow, he felt out-of-place comparing himself to the students with their entire career ahead of them.

Armin tried to get into law, in which he excelled, or medicine where he held deep interests, but he surrendered those dreams in order to pursue a degree in anthropology. The field fascinated him, and he held no true regrets studying his passion, but he wished he could find a legitimate career for all his hard work and studies. The closest job relating to his field willing to hire him in all his inexperienced youth came from his current job working at an antique shop downtown. Armin loved his job working with the small, old, and dusty treasures, but he wanted a bit more to claim in the world as he gazed up at the endless blue and white sky.

The sun rose a little higher in the sky as noon approached. Armin closed his trunk with all his miscellaneous junk crammed inside before heading to the backseat. The extra weight in the back disturbed the car's usual performance, but Armin drove on until he reached the hole-in-a-wall shop. The blond hated parallel parking, so he drove around to the back where he saw a couple of empty spots to park.

Armin swiped down his shirt and tried to pat away the wrinkles on his shirt as he rushed to the entrance. The bells attached to the door chimed a random melody when Armin pushed the shop door open. The lights illuminated less than half the store in a faint yellow hue, giving the store a musty, old color that the owner seldom used. Armin tossed his head around in every direction, but no one came into view.

"Hello?" The blond called out to the eerie room before him. 

Armin heard shuffling coming from deeper in he store. The blond grabbed a long, medium weight iron bar before walking in further. Without warning a high-pitched yelp sounded in the room.

"Armin! Armin, thank goodness you're here because I have the most amazing news for you!" Armin heard his boss scream. The words sounded like the source was approaching, but then Armin heard a loud thud.

Armin rushed to the light switches near him. His boss wobbled back onto her feet with a smile and wiped off the dust on her body as though nothing happened. "Hanji!" Armin exclaimed in exasperation and worry as he approached the woman. "What are you doing running around with the lights off?"

The smile never left Hanji's face. The woman stood at about his height, and she raised a eager hand on Armin's shoulder, giving him a small shake. "I wanted to surprise you. Like I said, I have great news for you."

Armin wanted to sigh, to scold the eccentric shop-keeper, to just take his paycheck and leave, but he rooted his feet to the floor. "News like what, madam?"

"So, as you know, everything about this shop has been paid off and settled in well, correct?" Hanji knew Armin knew, so she continued before he spoke again. "Since everything is well established here, my old friend and I were thinking of opening a second shop a few cities over to appease more crowds. Since the new store will be more maintenance for setting up, I decided to move to Sina near the new shop. Sina's much more filled with a market of collectors -- to the point that I wonder why the store didn't move there to begin with."

Armin felt his heart pound in his chest. His clever mind churned several outcomes of this conversation, and many would devastate Armin should they be true while the others would delight Armin should they be true. "Hanji, please, if you're going to tell me then . . ."

"Going, you say? That's right! If I'm _gone,_ I can't very well man shop, right? I -- and Moblit a little bit -- came up with a solution. _You_ get to own shop one in my place. This plan has been in the making for a few weeks, so everything is set up if you're up for it. We wanted to wait until you had your degree so the transfer would seem more reasonable and make sure you finished all your ties with school. We _know_ you can handle it, but we wanted the diploma to make sure you wouldn't struggle with as much schoolwork and the business. If you need time to decide, you have a few days to-"

"No," Armin said to cut her off from talking. Why would he need more time? "I mean, uh, I just, _yes._ Thank you, Hanji. You're putting so much faith into me despite how useless I am with customers and handling myself, and I just . . . I really needed this opportunity." Armin choked on a few words, but Hanji pats him on the back and makes all the worries spill out.

"You're not worthless. Sure, you may not have a job that would allow you to cure cancer or something, but I've never seen someone so well-rounded and intelligent so young." Hanji shifted herself so that she stood beside Armin, gazing at the dusty relics and old treasures surrounding them. Every item told a story she wanted to figure out, every item sold continued to tell stories, every item remaining waited to be discovered by the right person, and Hanji trusted Armin to be the one who could satisfy the sacred duty of protecting those items' legacy. "You already know every item in inventory and how to bargain for more as well as general maintenance. Honestly, if you wouldn't mind, you can start today. You even have room in the back to put your stuff and live out of since I know you're the type who would bring his work home anyway. Oh, and your pay would be raised, of course. Not to millionaire level, but it can be negotiated."

"Hanji, this is a lot to take in," Armin started, voice caught in his throat. "You honestly trust me with something like this?"

"There's no one better. Not even me! I hired you in the first place because of how much help and support you gave, you you owned the show after no time at all. If you need anything, I can be someone who occasionally supports _you_ instead." Hanji reached into her pocket and grabbed an old, copper-nickel key. "Here. I think I'll be going to Sina right now. If I stay any longer I think you'll back out. I have to run, but tomorrow I'll bring papers and details about nasty little things like insurance and taxes. Use today as practice. Remember, you're going to do _fine,_ Armin. More than fine. This is perfect for you."

Hanji huffed his chest up, smiled for Armin once more, before leaving him. Armin stood with his eyes gaging out of his head, mind wondering if he processed everything correctly. Though crazy and hyper, Hanji gave Armin support and guidance; without her he would never have found a job that had a least mild relevance to his degree. Armin understood that he would never fully be able to understand Hanji, but he also should have expected something as or more crazy from his boss.

Armin clenched the key, warming the cold metal with the palm of his hand. The key opened every lock in the shop, and the sudden control over everything in the shop eased Armin. Armin got a key to his life, and even if he made only enough money to live, Armin received a chance to live doing something decent and good. A surge of clean air filled the young man's lungs despite the dust spores floating surrounding him.

"Well, _damn_ ," the blond gasped, his body collapsing on old bookshelves for support. Armin smiled as his eyes drooped half-closed, staring blankly at his new shop. In a matter of minutes he went from broke with barely enough money to rent a motel or live out of car for a week to slightly less broke with a shop he could feasibly live in. Armin felt the shock, but another side of him scolded himself for not expecting it because Hanji _would_ drop a bomb like that on him. But that was okay because Armin caught that bomb. He caught it and fired it back, and, _damn,_ Ndid he feel powerful.

Armin chuckled; the dry sound shook the stifled air and cleared his throat. A wet tongue swiped over his chapped lips, and he never _tasted_ himself smiling. The blond tasted like an idiot, but he never wanted to end the flavor, which was a stupidly disgusting mix of honey and garlic and chocolate and chili pepper that he enjoyed despite being so bitter and sweet and hard to swallow.

Armin's time for introspection shattered apart after hearing the soft chime of the bells attached to the door. The visitor appeared several decades younger than the average customer.

The new man's olive skin showed no signs of typical wrinkles, and it complimented his choppy, disheveled brown hair well. The brunet tossed his head around and ran his fingers through the messy locks, but his hair was clearly too tangled and thick to properly tame. The man failed to see Armin leaning at the edge of the shop, so Armin knew to introduce himself to the potential shopper.

"Good day, si-"

"Shit! Where did you come from?!" the man shouted. The brunet looked angry, but not at Armin so much as his fear of getting so shocked.

"I came from right behind you. Sorry to have disturbed you at all. May I help you with anything?" Armin contained his will to laugh, keeping his smile professional and nonjudgemental.

"Hm? I do not think so," the man said as he made a face of displeasure looking around the shop. The accent suited the man's appearance well; it sounded strong and confident despite being a foreign tongue but still mindful of tone as to not offend Armin. 

After a few more moments peering at the visible inventory, the stranger turned his head to properly face Armin. Armin noticed the clear, grassy green color of the man's eyes despite the fact the man a wood direct eye-contact. Armin almost walked away to stop bothering the stranger, but he spoke again. "It's raining. Not too much, but I can tell it's worsening. I had heard it rains a lot in this season here, but I didn't actually _know_ how much. Look, it falls much harder now, yeah? I came to avoid heavy wetness." The man pointed to the glass window, and the afternoon shower poured more heavily by the moment. 

"Oh, I understand. You came at a good time then. They, uh, they pass by fast enough. Though, it is just water and wind. You've probably experienced water and wind before plenty of times." Perhaps Armin went a bit too literal about the storm, but the words just spewed from his lips. No one truly liked being in such a harsh gray storm, so giving the man sass seemed unnecessary, but he wanted to continue speaking to him.

Armin had foreign guests come occasionally, but they usually came from other states or were much older citizens if they were from another country. The new man looked Armin's age, at most a few years older, and the concept excited him. Hanji looked Armin's age, acted half his age, but was really close to twice his age, so someone new he could consider a peer refreshed the blond. Despite his excitement of pursuing more conversation with someone in his demographic, Armin joined the stranger in gazing through the window depicting the harsh weather outside.

Until the other man walked into his shop, the blond never registered the rain, yet somehow, in a sudden sense of clarity, Armin noticed everything at once. Like the small dark spots on the man's clothes from the drizzle of the rain. Or the way the once stuffy shop vented as the cold rain cooled the outside and winds slipped inside the shop. Or how the very handsome brunet foreigner kept snatching glances at Armin from the corner of his eyes.

"Look, are you sure you don't want to look around while you're waiting here?" Armin blurted, face warm while his body froze in place.

"I am looking," the man replied, staring directly at Armin, biting back a laugh. "I am Eren. May I have your name, Shop-Keeper of the Old-and-Ugly?"

Armin did laugh, a horrid sound like that of strangled toad, but Eren laughed, too, likely at Armin. "Armin. My name is Armin, and this isn't an 'Old-and-Ugly' shop. It's full of antiques that just _happen_ to be old and ugly _sometimes, ___" Armin joked as nicely as he could, hoping Eren would forget how wretched he sounded when he accidentally sounded like a yelping frog moments before. "Come on, Eren. I'll show you the cool stuff."

Eren gave Armin a disagreeable face in reply, but he followed the blond nonetheless. "Yes. Show me the 'cool stuff.' You make me curious now, Armin." Armin loved his name when Eren spoke it, like it was weightless to throw around yet a grounding weight for the sentence. 

"Then just follow me, Eren," the blond ordered, turning his back to the brunet to walk to the corner of the shop blocked from view by some large, old furniture. 

The walk took seconds, but they made it an adventure. The musty yellow lights flickered due to the storm, so the two preferred the glimpses lightning that illuminated them in sporadic flashes better than the dim lights. Thunder crackled and roared, but Armin and Eren ignored it, listening to their footsteps and the creaks of the floor. Eren held no appreciation for the antiques and collectables surrounding him, but Armin decided to make sure the brunet found every glance at history from the items fascinating by he end of the storm. 

"We're here," Armin announced. The blond bent down to lift a dust-covered box from the floor. "I want to show you my favorite item here, Eren. My grandfather gave it to me like a decade ago, but I keep it here because I never got it to work. Maybe you'll be the lucky charm, right? It's not really for sale as much as it is for show, but, ah, I think you'll like it." 


	2. The Pattern Fits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren takes more interest in Armin's special antique than he imagined he could ever, yet it's not too strange. The connection Armin and Eren have . . . Eren wonders if anything else has ever felt more right, though still not at the right time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I realized that part of my issue is that, even if I'm a writing genius, I CANNOT write at my sister's house. She's the biggest emotional drain I've ever met, and her two kids don't make my blood pressure go any lower. I dunno. I mean, I have (around 4-7) other excuses, but most of those are a bit too personal to share.
> 
> HEY! TO THE PEOPLE WHO LEAVE REVIEWS WHO DONT HAVE AN ACCOUNT HERE, CAN YOU LINK ME TO YOUR TUMBLR OR SOMETHING? I love seeing messaged from you all, but I don't want to ramble too long on the stories comments thanking you for updating. So if you guys have a tumblr or something, feel free to add that in the review so I can send you a special hug.
> 
> And to the specific commenter who actually noted that she (or he?) likes my updates specifically, I don't think I can fully convey how special and great I felt from that. Thank you. 
> 
> B-but I did make all As this semester if college, so yes. It's like 2 am and I have a job interview at 9 tomorrow, so I don't know what I'm doing with my life anymore.

If someone were to walk in the store, the two would not be noticed because of how secluded and hidden Armin made the area, surrounded with antique shelves and tables and even vintage clothes rack acting like curtains. Armin closed the bottom shelf he got the box from with his feet while he held said item like a fragile doll.

Eren noticed the heavy layer of dust on the box Armin revealed, but he kept his interest down as best he could. The entire store smelled "old," and dust scattered everywhere, but not to the extent of the once-hidden box. Armin hid the items in the box away from people, so even the most reluctant part of Eren wanted to learn more about the supposed greatness of the mystery item.

Armin swiped his hand across the top layer dust, unwittingly spreading it to the air, causing Eren to sneeze all over both Armin and the box. Armin shot upright, not sure how to wipe off all the cold spray Eren bestowed on him, so he just stood near the brunet with slight irritation.

"Geshundheit?" Armin offered; he could not be too angry when he indirectly caused Eren to sneeze on him, but he made sure to slip in some bitterness in his tone.

"Mm!" the brunet groaned with unamused eyes focused on Armin and a hand covering his nose. Eren made a small gesture with his other hand Armin could not understand, but the blond took it as a sign to continue.

"Oh, yeah, okay. Sorry about the dust. I said it doesn't come out much, but I think it'll be good for you to see. I get the impression that you didn't like the rest of the store's inventory, so this is something just for us to share." Armin smiled at Eren as he leaned over the box again, pealing the old tape off the top. "This can be our secret. A goal we can both try to achieve."

"What . . . do you mean?" the brunet inquired. Eren rarely let others share with him because his pride dictated that he work for his own rewards; however, Eren enjoyed sharing what he could when he could to help others, but he hated feeling like he contributed nothing. "I don't understand, Armin."

Armin reached for Eren's hand, noticing the brunet's discomfort with the confusing language. "You don't need to understand. I haven't for the past ten years. You just need to see it. The goal comes later, the goal to understand it." Within the next moment, Armin managed to scrape away the last of the confining tape. Careful hands reached inside the box, pulling something dazzling from its dusty, dark confines.

Despite being small, about the size of two palms pressed together and a palm high, and showing every hard year of its age, the item's presence filled the room. Armin's notably petite hands slide over a side in a way that seemed to engulf the tiny item, making it seem a hundred times less noticeable than how grand its impact filled in the room. Each male decided to see the item as a sort of antique jewelry box, but neither knew it's exact purpose, contents, or specialness like a music feature.

Eren had seen plenty of similar trinkets before from all across the world, but Armin's meant something a little more personal. Eren lowered himself beside Armin, keeping his eyes locked into the odd little antique. "So strange," Eren mumbled to himself more than to Armin.

"You don't know what it is?" Armin asked loudly enough to gain the brunet's attention. Eren noticed the blunt curiosity in Armin's voice, but it paled comparison to bright wonder lit in his awestruck eyes.

Eren admired Armin's ability to be so fascinated with the slightest of things. A heavy breath escaped the foreign man's lips in a way unlike a sigh. The released breath contained a small and toxic part Eren kept inside himself that weighed down his ability to appreciate little situations, so the brunet managed to breathe anew with the passion for life. Eren eased his mind after another long exhale, and he filled his lungs with what held more life, like with a breath of the stale air in the room filled with history.

Without verbally asking for permission, Eren placed a welcomed hand on the box, across from Armin's so that they each held a side in a symmetrical grip. "Of course I know what this is. I mean, I know what it is supposed to be, but it just feels very . . . separated from others of its kind. It's too familiar to me. So familiar, yet I do not know anything about it. You even have others like it in this store, I saw them, but this is just more _personal_." Eren glided his finger over the edges and corners, placing his hand at the top, letting his warm fingers trace over the pattern in the cold metal.

"That's a good way to describe it. I haven't seen one like it in my life. At least, I haven't seen one that felt as personal to me like it." Armin slid his hand over so that it rested on Eren's. "It can open, according to my grandfather. He said I would have to find the right key to make it work, and that I wouldn't find the right key until the right time."

"So when is the right time?" Eren asked, eyes on Armin and so painfully curious that Armin thought the brunet's life truly depended on the answer.

"The right time is when the right moment comes. I'm not allowed to plan it or know it." The crestfallen expression on Eren's face hurt Armin, but he had little else to offer for an answer. "I think . . . The right moment is a feeling. Grandfather supposed I would just _know_ , and always thought that was nonsense before, but now I," Armin licked the cracks on his dry lips before continuing, "I think that he was right about being able to feel it."

Eren slid his hand off the top, missing how the once-cold metal warmed under his hand to a soothing temperature and feeling. "I think your grandfather was right, too." Armin looked away from Eren, so the brunet focused on the intricately melded metal before him. Staring at staring, but nothing logical came to his head.

Armin stood again, looking over the small wall of items that had blocked his view before, and noticed that the rain continued as a small drizzle. Armin knew Eren came by accident, but the idea of the brunet leaving after the storm left still turned his stomach over. The blond leaned down and extended a hand near Eren's face to get the brunet off the dusty floor. Though the brunet focused more on the small metal box than himself, he eventually noticed the hand and took it.

For not having many muscles, Armin got Eren back on his feet without showing much difficulty. The sudden change of the air mixed inside Eren's nose, and he sneezed again. Armin could see the signs coming and moved away to avoid being sneezed on again while Eren bent down to release a harsh sneeze into his shirt, disheveling the brunet's appearance even more.

Eren noticed Armin go quiet and avoid his gaze, so he spoke to gain the blond's attention again. "I don't get a geshundheit this time?" Eren asked with mock-pain.

"Uh, I, um," Armin mumbled. The blond knew he avoided acted distracted from Eren, but something more important came into his field of vision. Without warning or thinking, Armin reached out and grabbed the cord around Eren's that had been revealed after the sneeze. Hidden under his shirt before, Armin leaned in closely to look at the key around Eren's neck. "This. This pattern. This is . . ." Armin's excitement overtook his ability to speak, and he merely held the key on the string in front of Eren's face. Eren needed less than a second to figure out what Armin already noticed.

"It's the same," Eren finished for Armin. "My father gave this to me when I was ten, but I never . . . He said it would open something that would give me all the answers, but I never understood before. I didn't even know what answers like ever mean to me."

"Well, if you have the answer, then I have the questions." Armin grabbed the metal box and turned to Eren. "If you don't mind trying it then . . ."

Eren lifted the cord from his neck, but when he held the key up to the box, he felt his phone pocket vibrate in his pocket. Armin nearly dropped the box when he heard the violent, German-sounding ringtone, but Eren eased his trembling body with a protective arm when he almost fell over.

Eren accepted the call without looking at the caller name, and Armin could hear the strain in his and the person on the other end of the line's voice despite not hearing well enough to make out words. The conversation lasted less than two minutes, but it filled with yelling in a language Armin never learned. Eren sighed after he hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

"Rain has stopped. Since I 'wasted so much time' already, my sister demanded I go meet her at the restaurant we wanted to try instead of meeting beforehand for shopping. I can't complain, really. I get a little longer with you if I don't have to shop with her now. Do you mind if I stay a bit longer?" Eren asked with a lightness in his voice that made Armin wonder if he were real.

"Y-yeah, of course. Just, y'know, try to lower your phone's volume. The ringtone almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh, and sorry about my ringtone scaring you. It's sort of like my theme song." Eren grinned, but the amount of boyish dreaming made the confidence in the smile morph into something borderline cute, in Armin's opinion.

"Isn't a bit cocky to designate your own theme song?" Armin asked with a raised brow. 

"What can I say? It gets me in the mood to take on the world." The brunet ran his fingers through his nearly-dried hair, smiling as he clutched his key again. "Is it the right moment?"

Armin looked down at his little box and then back up at Eren's key, noticing all the similarities in the metal and design. Thoughtful blue eyes traveled up further to see determined green ones. When they connected again, smiles spread over their faces because they knew that _no._ They could wait a little longer, needed to wait a little longer. Waiting meant the promise of seeing each other again. The phone call could have happened at any other moment -- the rain stopped minutes ago -- but the Fates decided they needed to wait, so Armin knew better than to cool around with finding the right moment.

"I don't want it to be, uh . . . What I mean to say is that it shouldn't be now. Waiting a little longer won't hurt. I mean, I waited half my life wondering." Armin smirked at Eren before putting the box back into the low shelf. 

"Are you going to make me wait as long as you did?" Eren asked, a bit more aggressive and disappointed than he wished to sound.

"Heh, no, not quite. How about we open it the day before you leave? If its contents are interesting enough, maybe it'll motivate you to come back," Armin suggested, staring Eren directly in his breathtaking eyes despite knowing a faint shade of pink dusted his cheeks. Armin reached out a hand and gripped one of Eren's.

Eren intertwined their fingers before he could tell his body to stop, and when he noticed it, he also noticed neither pulling away. "You think I'll leave town?" Of course Eren needed to _go_ , but the going meant running off to do something while still considering what is being left; _leaving_ meant complete departure and separation. Eren would go, but he formed too strong a connection with Armin and his mysterious shop to not return.

"Don't you plan to leave? You aren't from here, so I thought this was a vacation for you."

"Not anymore. It's a little bit too important to be a vacation now. I have to make sure we see the inside of that box now. I can't leave it behind." Eren grinned like he had the hopes and determination of a child, but Armin felt himself returning that same grin. "Wish it was the right time right now."

"I feel the same. I can't explain well why we shouldn't just open it now, but we're just too unfamiliar to share something already overwhelmingly personal. You came here by chance, and I want to know who you are to have such a special key." Armin's grin morphed into something softer, gentler. "At least we know a little more now." 

Eren understood, agreed even, and the idea of learning more about Armin softened his need to learn what his key could open. The brunet's phone vibrated in pocket, and he could only guess that his sister sent him a message reminding him about dinner. "I must go find my sister now, but, uh," Eren rubbed his hand behind his head as he tried to find the right words of goodbye, but his mouth dried up, not wanting to admit to separation.

"I understand. Thanks for stopping by, Eren. With the rain coming down so hard, today would have been really slow and boring without you." Though he never showed affection often, Armin felt bold enough to wrap his arms around Eren, enjoying the feel of taut muscles and body heat through their clothes. Eren remained stone-like, but eventually returned the sentiment, giving Armin a sense of protection in those strong arms.

"I will stop by again soon. We can talk more then." Eren massaged little circles into Armin's back as he spoke, assuaging the blond's tense body as best he could. "May I return tomorrow?"

"Anytime," Armin replied with more breathiness than he intended. The smaller male unlatched their bodies, flush bright on his face, and turned away. "I think your sister's been waiting long enough. It'll already be difficult to explain, so let's just leave it be for now. I hope you enjoy whatever you get at the restaurant."

"I'll try. It's supposed to be something nice. Lucidity, I think."

"Oh? A friend of mine is the chef. If you don't know what to order, request that Sasha make you her speciality bread and potato bowls." A few more words. Civil words. Polite conversation. Really, Armin wanted a few more moments with Eren: the type of moments that come without actual force but with a purpose that cannot be forced away. They needed to figure out why the other was so special, but not at that time. At that moment, Armin just wanted to hear Eren'svoice without the burdens of figuring out the foreign male. 

Uh, yeah, okay! I really never heard of that before. Farewell, Armin!" the brunet muttered, voice clinging to the hopes that he would be stopped. Eren swallowed a hard gulp, and turned to walk out the door.

"Goodbye, Eren. I mean it literally when I say 'anytime'!" Armin emphasized, his mouth moving without his permission. "This is my home, so feel free to visit. Anytime. Really."

Eren only turned part of his face around, hand on the door to exit, but Armin saw the flashing smile and reddened cheeks. "Yeah. I'll make use of that offer," Eren paused before continuing. The foreigner twisted his body around more with a full and cocky smile, a look in his eyes which promised Armin that they would meet soon. The determined eyes promised Armin that they would see the inside of the box, when the right time came. "Try to dust a little before I come back, okay Armin?"

Armin gave his surest nod while saying a positive, "Of course!" The moment the words left his mouth, Eren also left. Eren's last word was Armin's name said in that hypnotizing voice, and Armin liked that they ended the conversation on that note.

Again, Armin stayed still in the quiet antique shop, leaning in the same old bookcase and gazing at the same old shop. Somehow, though, it all seemed much less stuffy. The entire store pulsed with a new life despite having no other soul inside. Armin only had one way to improve the atmosphere: a good dusting.

Locking up the shop early, Armin took the time to clean the store and the back area to fit all his belongings. In the sudden burst of actually connecting with someone else, the entire shop felt like a _home_ and an escape. Cleaning took hours, until nightfall, but Armin's spirit never fell. The blond worked on improvements to make the environment more comfortable, intentions leaning more to impressing a very cute brunet more than to impress future customers.

***

_"What do you think we'll find when we get there?" a large man of six-five asked. The man sniffed his nose in distaste._

_"I wouldn't know. War. Death. Violence. The lowest existence of human nature," another man replied. He too was quite tall, only a tad shorter than his companion, but his entire demeanor exuded a fierceness unlike the other soldiers._

_The first man sighed, his breath heavy and downtrodden. "I've always hated the smell of death the most. Bullet smoke don't seem to much better." Though he hid his eyes underneath his hair, the rest of his face lit with a bitter-sweet expression. "At least your honesty is refreshing. Most of the other soldiers have been trying to romanticize this. Glory, grandeur, God: you name it and they've said it as a way to justify this. Smith was the name? On your tag, at least."_

_The fierce-looking man turned to the other soldier, his demeanor less tense and aggressive. "Yes. Smith, Erwin. Just another soldier."_

_The taller man humphed. "Don't lie to me; I can smell the falseness. You're the sergeant, at the least. I may be an underman, but you should tell people what your rank really is. You've earned it. I can tell."_

_"I said truth. I'm just another soldier. No life is ranked above another's," Erwin responded levelheaded._

_"'In God's eyes,' you mean?" The man quoted referencing what the citizens in his small country town often preached._

_"If He exists, then yes. I'm sure He would agree with the sentiment." Erwin smiled at the larger man, a hand stretched out in front of him. "Besides, sergeant isn't too high, anyway."_

_The large man took the hand, his own confident smile on his face. "Zakarius, Mike. An attitude like yours, and you'd be commanding this army, though I would keep the heretic view private."_

_The two both chuckled at the words, neither willing to deny the words outright. "You know that if there were no war, an army wouldn't need to exist for me to command."_

_"You would take unemployment over war? From what I hear, this big bombfest is really getting people out of the Depression, you know. I've seen it, too. My ma found a job in the factories and m'pop helps grow crops to feed the troops -- and he's been losing jobs since he lost a leg back in WWI!" Mike took in a deep breath through the nose before speaking anymore. "Everything about it still smells rotten."_

_"I couldn't agree more. To think, in a mere blink of the eyes we'll be landing on European soils: guns, knives, bullets, grenades, and everything else strapped to our backs as we set out to kill other humans. The entire continent will smell rotten and decayed."_

_"When we finish killing the bad guys, the Nazis and whatnot, we'll be able to come back home to the states and smell all the life blooming knowing that we'll have saved millions from dirty fascism."_

_"Yes, Zakarius. That would certainly help our consciences weigh less." Erwin patted Mike on the soldier, almost as though the touch would transfer some of Erwin's confidence into the other man. "You should go to the bunks. Your shift ended, and you're more useful after a fair rest."_

_"With all due respect, sir, the sun hasn't finished setting, and I would prefer to watch it. We can only count the number of viewings we have left now, sir." Mike reversed his position so that he faced the setting sun, and in his distraction with the bright, orange and pink sky, he almost did not notice Erwin standing beside him doing the same._

_The boat under their feet rocked from one side to the other, but both men stood on solid ground, resolved and hardened to fight and end the war before it even began. Kill the enemy, save the innocent. The mission was clear. War was war._

_Erwin still expected a bit more, though._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my stories aren't popular or anything, but please feel free to leave a review or kudo. I really haven't had the motivation to write anymore. It's been a bit (really) rough.  
> Once again, so sorry about the length. Hopefully it gets better. Also, I've gone through this chapter so many times I think I've MADE more typos trying to (with great frustration) rewrite scenes that fix typos betaing.


	3. Dance Partner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bold dialogue means the people speaking are not speaking English, as has been the norm for the past two chapters.   
> It means, in a way, that the English dialogue written would be the colloquial English translation of the desired effect I wish upon the readers -- though the characters would be speaking the language of which they are familiar.
> 
> I have a scene in mind where one character would be speaking a non-Egnlish language and another will be speaking a different non-English language, but I've yet to establish how I would format such a dialogue transaction. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, I suppose.
> 
> I INCLUDED FANART? I don't know completely how to insert fanart, but I drew something to coincide with this chapter, so it'll be at the very end.

Eren avoided looking back at the antique shop, knowing he would return, but he wanted to stay in there with Armin. The only benefit to leaving meant Eren could breathe some of the fresh air after the afternoon shower instead of stale dusty air. Then again, _Armin_ brought a sense of refreshment that Eren almost never felt.

Swallowing a hard gulp, Eren kept focused and walked to his rental car. The brunet vaguely knew the directions, but he accounted for a few minutes getting lost and to manage to still be on time. Eren knew little about driving in the area or the area itself, but he knew the restaurant’s recognizable features, so as long as Eren could stay on the right side of the road, then he could find it.

The small car, black and an older model despite being able to afford much better, drove well, and the small vibrations from driving definitely relaxed Eren's swirling mind. As he thought, Eren did lose train of thought while he drove, and drove past his destination, but by the time he realized it he still managed to hustle in time. Eren let the valet park the car somewhere Eren did not bother to memorize, and walked to his very angry looking sister waiting outside.

"You're almost late," she said in monotone, her gray eyes also appeared calm, but Eren knew better than to assume she was not angry.

"I'm exactly on time!" Eren countered, checking his watch for good measure.

"Yes, and exactly on time is only seconds away from being late." The woman gave Eren's appearance a once over, and sighed in disappointment. "You're not only underdressed, but you're _dirty_ , as well."

"Only because I, uh, I stopped by somewhere dusty." Eren did not want to think about the shop, but he failed and the wide grin spread across his lips told her a lot more than he wanted to say. "Mikasa, should we head inside n-"

"Jäger, party of two, you're reservations are ready," a finely dressed waiter announced near the door

"We will talk inside." Mikasa turned her back on Eren as she walked up to the entrance. The black dress she wore flattered her figure, and her long yet graceful steps impressed the waiter ready to seat them much more than Eren's hasty strut in jeans and dusty green shirt.

The man seated the two closer to the back and passed two menus. "I shall return to take your orders momentarily. The name is Oluo if you need anything," the waiter said before giving Eren another disappointed glance.

"Why are you smiling?" Mikasa asked without glancing at her brother, opening and focusing her eyes on the menu.

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Eren asked in repulsion. Normally Eren would be much more confrontational if someone treated him like the waiter, but instead he had been thinking about his day and Armin, and Mikasa must have noticed his subconscious expressions.

"You're happy. You're never happy. Why are you smiling?" Mikasa repeated. Her dull gray eyes peered up from the menu, and Eren could not escape the truth under that cold gaze. "Is it a something or a someone?"

Eren gulped and turned away. "Will you stop pressing needless questions. We need to order. I know you already know what you want anyway."

"And you haven't even opened your menu," she noted, not letting Eren change the subject without pressing further.

"I know what I want already, too. I looked into the restaurant. I know what I want," Eren barely lied, and he did so much more smoothly. To make sure Mikasa would not ask anything else, Eren called back the grouchy later.

"Already decided?" Oluo inquired with a raised brow.

"I suppose so," Mikasa replied looking right at Eren. "I'll have your soup of the day, and a water. My brother would like . . ."

The waiter looked relieved to hear that Mikasa and Eren were related, and Eren growled at him so he would look at him and not his sister. "I would like Chef Sasha's bread and potato special and also a water."

The man seemed surprise that Eren would know a special only known by higher-up customers, but not as much as Mikasa. "Ah, yes. Would you like your meat to be chicken, lamb, or steak?"

"Lamb," Eren said before Mikasa kicked him under the table. "Lamb, _please_."

"Well, I'll certainly put in your special and return with the water soon."

When Oluo left earshot, Mikasa spoke again. "You did enough research to know the chef's specials?" Mikasa still sounded monotone, but she also needed to know what was going on with her brother, so her eyes started to spark with more worry.

"Okay, so it was a, uh, recommendation by a friend."

"A friend? Eren, you know you have horrible social abilities."

The comment hit a sore wound in Eren, but only because it was true. Then again, Eren failed to notice calling Armin a friend. The two met _once_ , but they also had the promise to meet each other again. To meet each other as often as they could until somehow things became _right_. Eren took a moment to examine his words more, and he would stand by them. Armin was his friend. His only friend, so his best friend, and something a but different.

"He's a stranger in a good sense of the word, and he's a friend. He's," Eren paused and smiled again, not noticing the confusion on Mikasa's face from the unusual expression. "He's Armin."

"Armin, hm?" Mikasa's face fell and became darker than her usually stoic nature. "I demand to meet him. He is to meet me in no more than two days."

"Mikasa, that's very unneces-"

"No more than two days. He distracts you. Because of him, you look lousy in a fancy restaurant, and did not accompany me in my shopping. If he has such a strong hold on your mind, then I _will_ meet him to see how suitable he is."

"Fine," Eren grumbled. Mikasa always became overprotective of him for trivial reasons, and he appreciated her care and love, but he did wish she would let him have more independence without demanding he talk to her every step of the way. "Just . . . Remember not to bother him. He's so perfect, so don't ruin this."

"Perfect? Eren, you just met him!" Mikasa and Eren both bulged their eyes hearing Mikasa raise her voice, but she regained her composure fast. "I understand you think he's your friend, but I'll do what I must. No one is perfect, especially a stranger."

"I know you feel that way, and if I haven't stopped you from thinking that way after twenty-two years then I know I never will, but know this is completely unnecessary."

Mikasa nodded and turned away. "Does he only know English?"

"I think so. We spoke English the entire conversation, so I wouldn't know if he knows anything else. I know you're fluent enough in it to be careful enough with your words that you can avoid saying something rude to him. English or otherwise."

"I'm still not comfortable with this. I don't want to always speak English, and if I have something to say to him, I'll say it in whatever language it comes out as."

"If we keep talking in it, then we'll be more fluent. We need to be comfortable with it."

"You say that, but we have no guarantee of staying here."

Oluo came back with their waters, but he said nothing to them. Eren really disliked him, but he knew Mikasa would still make him pay a high tip.

Eren and Mikasa both took a long sip of their icy water, cooling off their heads as they drank and relaxed.

"We could stay, though. You never know."

"Eren . . ." Mikasa muttered under her breath, her eyes soft and doting. "You really want to stay for a stranger?"

"No. I want to stay so that he'll never seem strange again. He invited me back, so it's . . . It's mutual, Mikasa. He's barely a stranger. I told you: he's Armin."

"So you've said. I'll tell you what you can do after I meet him."

Eren sighed, but the conversation finally seemed to close, so he stopped pushing it. Oluo came and spoke a few annoying words, but the entire meal remained silent after that, only the sound of their silverware hitting their plates making noise. Mikasa kept an aura that hid her disappointed feelings about her meal, but Eren's was _perfect_. Eren would have to thank Armin when next they met, the thought causing his smile to grow yet again.

***

Armin waited for anyone to walk into the shop, anyone at all, but no one stepped inside even to browse. Armin's very first day, and other than Eren, not a single soul bothered with him. The blond wanted to be concerned, wanted to wonder where customers could have gone, but none if it seemed to matter. _Eren_ came, and his visit was worth his weight in gold.

Armin swallowed hard. The blond wondered what time they would meet again. Eren's cellphone rang right in front of him. Eren clearly had a means to call him, yet Armin forgot to offer his number. Though, Eren could always reject having Armin's contact information, or maybe he could not call American numbers. Armin could have been rejected, so not asking for a number exchange could have helped him.

Armin dusted until his arms felt heavy, wiping away the majority of the items. The blond let himself rest for the day and planned to finish the far back of the store later. Armin wondered if he accomplished anything major. An entire day on his own as a store-owner, and the business would surely collapse if continued at such a pathetic rate, it would close within the week. The troublesome thought fledged through Armin's wise mind but never lingered; he knew today was just something special. The rest of the workweek would continue the same as always, though Armin did hope Eren would visit again.

6 o'clock crept on an old grandfather-clock's hands. Jiggling the keys in his pocket, Armin stepped outside, locked the door for caution, and went to his car for the box of his belongings. Armin let himself back inside the shop with box in hand, noticing how it weighed less than it had that morning. For that brief moment, everything weighed less in Armin's mind.

Armin took the box to a small room in the back of the store. Hanji stored one old, musty bed set with its own matching set of a feathered mattress and pillow. The sheets, though old and bland, dated from within the decade. The room only had one electrical outlet, but all Armin would need is a one for a much-needed fan to circulate the stuff air and another to plug in his laptop or phone. The ceiling light had a cheap fan that had bust years prior, and the lightbulbs flickered a dull yellow hue. All things considered Armin's living situation _drastically_ improved from what it appeared to be that morning.

Armin just could not shake the smile spread wide across his cheeks. The newly-declared shop owner grabbed the only book he carried in his box, a collection of tales from across the world that his grandfather had given him over a decade ago. The need for nostalgia swelled in Armin's heart. The thick scent of worn and aged paper filled the blond's nostrils as he opened to a random page, one with a picture of a boy holding a key to a box. Armin knew the story, only consisting of a small paragraph, but reread the tale all the same.

"'Once in the wintertime when the snow was very deep, a poor boy had to go out and fetch wood on a sled,'" Armin read aloud to no one in particular. "'Despite gathering it together and loading it, he did not want to go straight home because he was too frozen for such a journey. The boy decided instead to make a fire and warm himself a little first. He scraped the snow away for a fire area, but while he was clearing the ground he found a small golden key. Now he believed that where there was a key, there must also be a lock, so he dug in the ground and found a little iron chest. "If only the key would fit!" he thought. "There must be valuable things in the chest." He looked, but he saw no keyhole. Finally he found one, but so small that it could scarcely be seen. He tried the key, and fortunately it fitted. Then he turned it once, and . . .'"

Armin turned the page before he finished reading. He always hated the ending, or lack thereof. The blond realized the next page was the end of the book, so he flipped back to the front to begin his old adventures in the tales again. Too soon Armin drifted into a deep slumber, book still opened somewhere in the middle while it lay on his chest.

***  
Eren awoke bitter and annoyed. Mikasa hit him with a pillow she yanked from under his head and demanded he stop his harmless sleeping. Groggy eyes checked the clock only to find it an hour before he set the alarm.

"Dammit, Mikasa! What gives?" Eren grumbled. The brunet wanted to bury himself in the sheets and bed, but Mikasa would toss him on the floor if he dared. With a large pool of his morning energy, Eren strained his body to a sitting position.

"Wake up," Mikasa ordered, as though the command explained everything.

"Yes, but _why_? It's an hour before we planned to do anything."

"You want to visit that boy again today, I want to do everything else. This is the only way we can fit everything in the schedule. Unless, of course, he's not worth a few minutes of extra sleep," Mikasa reasoned, blunt as ever.

"First off, Armin's not a boy; he's a man, probably like twenty. Second, he's worth the lack of sleep. Third, don't you dare pull this sort of crap again because I have no reason to do your errands too. Four, _get out_! I'm still in my boxers, you sleep invaded!" Eren shoved the last pillow beside him at Mikasa's face, which she mostly managed to dodge. Mikasa would have completely dodged it if she were not distracted by Eren’s sudden ability to reason after waking up so groggy and angry.

"Fine. I'm leaving, but you have ten minutes to get ready or I'll just walk in again without warning," she warned.

"I regret letting you have the spare room key," Eren mumbled as Mikasa walked outside.

Ten minutes would pass quickly, and Eren at least wanted to be clean and dressed by the time Mikasa came back, so he jumped out of bed when she closed the door. Eren saw the outfit he chose the night before near his bag, and grabbed it on his way to the bathroom. By the time the water warmed, Eren was already rinsing off the soap suds on his body. He had to end his shower fast or else he would have less than five minutes for everything else.

The towel barely touched Eren's damp hair and body before he rushed drying off. Eren threw on a camo-green undershirt and then scurried his fingers to button on his forest-green shirt. He leered at his gray jeans for a moment and wondered if they matched as much he thought they would the previous night until he remembered he had no time to question his fashion sense. Mikasa stepped in the moment after he buttoned his pants and had a pair of socks in his hands.

"You're done," Mikasa announced the moment she walked into Eren's hotel room.

"No, I'm not! Let me brush my teeth and put on some damn shoes!"

"Fine."

"Fine!" Eren yelled, plopping himself back on the bed to put on the socks and his short boots.

Before Eren could walk to the sink and look at the mirror for himself, Mikasa spoke up again: "You have a giant pimple on your right cheek. Armin will probably think you're growing a second head."

Eren threw his toothbrush at Mikasa, but she grabbed it and threw it back, making the bristled end land in Eren's yelling mouth.

Eren finished brushing his teeth without any more tantrums. If he were being honest, Eren would admit that the pimple looked big. Armin seemed above shallow judgments on people, but Eren still wanted to look his best. If Eren stands next to Mikasa while with Armin, he would look like slime because his sister's beauty definitely stops more traffic than his.

"You're done now?" Mikasa asked, finally letting emotion deep into her done as she wanted to hurry and leave.

"Yeah, I guess," Eren scoffed as he rubbed his cheek, feeling the little bump close to his jaw. Mikasa probably had a make-up in his shade to cover it, but he would do that in the car if at all.

***  
Armin started his morning before his alarm clock rang. The blond stretched his muscles and got ready. Typical cheap button-up and whatever jeans smelled cleanest. Thankfully his hair looked and felt clean and relatively grease-less after a long brushing. The store would open in a few minutes, so Armin let himself be and walked to the shop-portion of the building.

Within the first hour two people walked in, and one person actually bought a set of painted glass fruit, so the day already looked financially brighter than the previous. A steady stream of customers visited the shop browsing and buying at mixed intervals, but none were the one Armin really wanted. Lunch hours passed, and so did the larger numbers of guests when 1:30 came along. When the last person left and no one would likely come inside for some time, Armin grabbed his feather-duster again to finish cleaning the place.

The bells on the door chimed, but Armin never heard them; he focused on cleaning the back of the floor and had his back facing the door. Armin felt a queasy feeling in his gut like someone was watching him, then a hand grabbed his dusting wrist at the same moment the blond heard an effeminate sneeze.

"Er-Eren? I didn't hear you come in," Armin said, trying to pull himself away in his mind but frozen in place.

"I didn't want to bother you. I see you' so been dusting," Eren commented in a lame attempt to start a conversation. Green eyes cast downward to see his hands still holding Armin's dusting hand. "You've done a great job cleaning, too. Uh, I only had to stop you because it's getting really heavy in the air again, and, uh, hi?"

"Hi," Armin copied. "I definitely don't want to have you sneeze everywhere again."

"Again? You should know how to cover up by now, Eren," Mikasa chided from a few feet away from the other two.

"Uh, hi to you, too, miss," Armin turned to Eren with confusion on his face, though he wanted to assume the woman was his sister if not for the sparse resemblance.

"Oh, right, this is my sister, Mikasa," Eren said gesturing to Mikasa and making a sour expression. "And this is Armin."

Eren's hand loosened around Armin's wrist, and all of his focus went into staring at said man. Eren's lips twitched upward, and his eyes bore into Armin's. Eren looked at Armin with determination, which baffled Armin. Eren searched for more to describe from those eyes, searched for a better way to introduce Armin than by just saying his name. Armin was so much more than a name, but all the he was left Eren speechless. Armin never told Eren much more than his name, but their connection remained in something stronger than words in the air.

Armin shot Eren a smile of his own, but it was smaller and more humble. "Nice to see you again so soon."

Eren kept his confident expression, but his face tinted pink. "I would have been here sooner, but Mikasa dragged me along for her errands and-"

" _Our_ errands. We've been planning this day for months." Mikasa looked like she planned to say more, but she sneezed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I'll open the door to try and get this dusty air out. This is the second time you've sneezed, right? Feel free to complain, so I can fix the issues. Eren wanted to see the place less dusty, so that's what I've been doing."

Armin pulled his wrist out of Eren's loose grip and rushed to the door. Armin grabbed a small rocking horse and put it at the door's edge as a stopper. Armin took in a deep breath before releasing it with a smile.

"Better? It may take a few minutes, sorry."

Mikasa stayed silent as she buried part of her face under her red scarf. "That's very sweet of you. You even tried to help Eren." When Mikasa gazed at Armin, her eyes were kind and thankful, then she darted them at Eren with a warning glare.

"O-oh! Yes, thanks. Like I said before, it looks amazing. I am sorry if I made it seem like it was necessary. Your store looked fine."

"No, it's not for you. I mean, it was, but it wasn't you entirely." Armin took a moment to collect his thoughts before opening his mouth again. "The cleaner store helped people feel more natural coming in. I didn't want to give off a bad impression to others like I did with you."

"You didn't give me a bad impression!"

"You called my shop ugly and old! You look like you'd become an eighty-year-old man just by walking in here."

"I-" Eren paused then remembered he did exactly as Armin said. "Well, I don't feel that way anymore. I really like this stuff. At the very least, I like _some_ of the stuff in here."

"How wonderful. What caught your eye?" Armin asked with genuine hope Eren liked something in the shop.

"Uh, like this," Eren said as he grabbed an old music box. The pink paint chipped off in some areas, and a few of a decorative pieces fell out, but the pose of the proud dancer on the top and the care in details made it a fantastic piece. When Armin got the sound to work on it, it became his favorite.

"Twist the knob at the bottom. She dances to the music."

Eren did as told. A wave of serenity washed over the three in the room while each note connected to create a beautiful melody. Eren grabbed Armin's hands and started to spin their bodies along so the meekly.

"H-hey, Eren!"

"You're lighter on your feet than I assumed," Eren noted while he continued to lead in their impromptu dance. Eren held Armin as though he were as fragile as the porcelain of the music box, but each movement remained strong and with a fierceness. Eren trusted Armin to match his steps and saw Armin as a partner over a spontaneous dance partner, and Armin made sure his novice feet kept pace.

The music stopped playing for a few seconds without either Eren or Armin stopping. Mikasa turned the dial again, but they already tired out too much to continue.

"You need more practice," Mikasa interjected bluntly while Armin still tried to catch his breath.

"I never danced like that before!" Armin defended, feeling offended he failed to look proper even though he should have expected as much.

"Not you, me," Eren grumbled. "It's been four years. I should be allowed to look a little unprofessional."

"Not around Armin. You looked awful, and he can see it in your clumpy movements. No wonder even Reiner danced more gracefully than you." Mikasa turned to Armin, and a faint smile graced her face. "Strand taller. You have a lovely form, so I do not know why you danced like you were so ashamed of yourself. If you ever wish for a lesson, I'd be happy to teach you."

"Oh, s-sure. That sounds amazing." Armin blushed and tried to brush the stray strands of hair out of his face.

"She means it, you know," Eren mumbled close to Armin with his back turned to Mikasa. "You didn't seem like a beginner to me. We can practice together."

"Always," Armin replied, avoiding Eren's gaze. "I wouldn’t take you for a dancer."

"Ten years of it, even though Mikasa says I dance like an intermediate clown."

Mikasa almost laughed at that comment's truth, but decided to be kind to her brother. "Maybe an expert clown."

Armin did laugh at that, much to Eren's chagrin. "You two really do act like siblings. I'm really happy I got to meet you, Mikasa."

Eren stopped his angry sulking to look up at his sister; he needed to know her response.

"I am happy to have met you, as well, Armin," Mikasa replied. "I trust you to take care of my brother while I'm away. We need to finish what we planned for the day, but I think he should be fine here until I finish. Unless, of course, he becomes burdensome; in which case, you may promptly demand he leave and walk home in shame."

"N-now I don't think it'd come down to that. Does this mean you'll be leaving soon?"

"I suppose I must. I'll return to get Eren as soon as I can." Mikasa walked close to Armin and wrapped her arms around him. "Don't go easy on him, Armjn," she ordered before she proceeded to leave the shop.

The wind still blew inside the store, but the rocking horse holding the door open moved more hastily than it had before. "A storm's probably going to come again. Is she safe to drive in bad weather?

"She's seen much worse and came out on top," Eren answered, showing concern but not severe worry.

"Then I'll trust you on that," Armin said before walking to door and pushing aside the toy so the door would close. "I doubt anyone else will stop by if it rains. It would be total déjà vu, huh?"

"Come again?"

"Oh, I mean, this feels familiar. If it rains it'll be the same as yesterday." Armin coughed in his hand and shuffled his feet in place. "So, uh, Mikasa's nice."

"She is. Overprotective and overbearing, but she's amazing." Eren rubbed the back of his neck and pondered for more to say. "She's not my sister, though. Well, she is, but not by blood."

"Oh. That explains the whole, you know, appearance thing."

"I saw that you looked confused. She is a sister at heart, but most of her family roots are in Japan as far as we can tell. I think she moved near me when we were about six, we met at seven, then she became a part of my family at nine."

"I bet you two haven't changed at all from how you acted toward each other as kids," Armin joked, but he could see Eren as a child much like the adult version with more of a tantrum habit.

Eren chuckled at the joke, and Armin's mood lifted at the small sounds of amusement. "Did you meet doing ballet?"

"No, not exactly. We met when my father, a doctor, went to pay her family a visit with me. We had to wait with each other for them to finish, and I remember it being awful. She looked so bored and plain. She only smiled at her mother or when she helped around the house, so she made me help her clean or else she'd be angry. I don't know how I noticed with as dumb as I was as a kid, but I noticed she moved with much more precision and perfection than I did when we cleaned. I moved with determination, but I still left plenty of dirty spots hidden. I wanted to do things as well as her, so I asked her how she did literally _everything_ so well. She said it was because of 'dancer's grace' or something to that effect in English."

"So you took up ballet to clean someone else's house better than someone else?" Armin asked, failing to keep the amusement from his tone.

"No! I did it because she did _everything_ better! She could clean, she could fight, she could beat an entire team of football players alone. Mikasa's naturally gifted to do everything well, but at the time I thought it all came from ballet, so when I was eight, I asked to do it, too."

"Did it help at all? Despite what Mikasa said, I think you danced amazingly, so you stuck with it for some reason, right?"

"Yes, I did. I told you about ten years. When I was a kid the rigor of it helped make me a bit more patient, and I gained a lot of knew physical skills that helped in plenty of ways. Then when I got a little older, I realized how many beautiful women danced with me, so that became another large factor to staying." Eren smirked and grabbed the antique music box again, raising her in the air with a gallant pose. "I lifted many beautiful women above me as we danced together with grace and intimacy. In the end, though, no one managed to lift me the same way. Mikasa could because she is, as said before, naturally gifted at everything, but it wasn't the same. Mikasa is my sister, not a _partner_. The women were beautiful enough for me to go through the motions, but I didn't treat them justly as a partner without putting my heart into it the same way."

Eren lowered the music box and twisted the bottom dial again. The soothing music filled the room, mixing with the sound of pouring rain praise and booming thunder. Eren put the item down where he found it the first time while it continued to play and spin. "I actually played football at the same time as ballet and the last years of secondary school. I had an edge on the football field from the years ballet training, and I could keep focused on schoolwork from the dedication I learned to have, but it became stressful to so much in such a key time in one's life."

Eren walked over to Armin and stopped less than a foot away. Armin could tell in the way his fingers twitched and the way his smile strained that Eren wanted to reach out for him, and Armin respected that Eren tried to not get carried away and invade Armin's personal space. Though, Armin felt a bit disappointed in Eren; he should know that Armin never once minded those touches or embraces. Armin decided to hold Eren's hands and give a supportive smile.

"If now is a better time to dance, I'm willing to be your partner. Mikasa made it seem like I’d be better than you with practice, soI’m sure to dance fine. I'm sure she knows with she's talking about."

"That would be great, if you don't mind me being out-of practice."

"I don't mind. If ballet doesn't work with us, we can always try socc-football together. Mikasa can be one team on her own, you can be a player, and is just be a goalie."

"That wouldn't be fair. We'd need at least two full teams to go against my sister."

"I can contact a few people interested in an excuse to take a day off of work. Does Sunday work for you? I close the shop then."

Eren laughed but shook his head. "I would love to spend time with you and meet your friends, but I would rather our first real date be more private."

Armin's jaw went slack and his mouth hung open. His pale complexion morphed into a strawberry color from his neck to his ears and hairline. Armin knew he had no chance of hiding his embarrassment, but he had no qualms about the actual situation. Armin flushed from surprise and the casual way Eren mentioned a date, but the idea of a date with Eren in itself thrilled the blond.

"S-Sunday," Armin sputtered out after a moment of holding Eren's hands tightly and trying to figure out a response.

"If you're free, yes. Yes, I would like to take you out on a date. On Sunday. I've been speaking well so far, but is my English not right about this?" Eren asked, face also tinted pink, but that could stem from his anger at himself for not communicating well.

"Yeah! Y-yes, Sunday. I would definitely love . . . Sunday is a great day to have a date. Together. No friends or family needed."

"That's good. We don't have to plan it yet or right now. I'll probably visit tomorrow or the next day if we need to discuss it further, and if I'm welcomed here. For now, we can just talk about anything."

"Hm, you have been pushing your limit being here. I think you give bad luck with customers, but I suppose I wouldn't mind you stopping by either day. Shop closes at 5:30 if you want to come see me without worry of who else might pop in."

"I haven't been worried before."

"That's because no one else has come in because you jinx this place. If a real customer were to show up, I have to leave you and talk to them, you know."

Eren's raised his eyebrows as though he had just been challenged. "Not a real customer? If anyone else comes in, then I'll buy something. First thing's first for today's visit," Eren grabbed the music box from the shelf again and held it near Armin. "I would like to make her my first purchase."

"You know, you should look at the price tag before you grab items. That one is a favorite and would cost $120."

Eren gulped but feigned a smile; he forgot how much some antiques cost. "That's outrageous. She's worth her weight in gold."

"You drive a hard bargain, but I guess we are doing a new-store-owner sale this week. Everything's discounted 1/3 off. $80," Armin haggled for Eren. If not for the need to keep his new shop in business, he would have given the beautiful antique to Eren. Eren just drove away all other customers, so he had to make do with who he had.

"Do you accept Euros?" Eren asked after pulling out his wallet. Mikasa gave him some converted money, but most of it stayed in Euros. Eren held out $40 in case Armin would at least accept that much.

"I don't normally. Tell you what, if you pay for my share of the date on Sunday, I'll let you keep the other $40."

"But I would have paid for our day together regardless!"

"And I wouldn't have let you. Now I would be willing." Armin smirked, and Eren debated if it was an expression he liked seeing on the blond.

"Okay, Armin. Know that if I pay for you, that I will give you all that I can."

Armin sucked in his bottom lip and nodded. Eren looked like he really would try to buy anything or do anything a date would want, but Armin refused to abuse that trait. Eren would pay off $40, but Armin worried he would go far beyond that price on their date.

"The rain stopped again," Eren commented as he looked outside.

"Huh? Already? It feels like it's been five minutes." Armin checked his clock, not realizing almost an hour passed. "I don't know when Mikasa will be here, so let me wrap her up for safe travel," Armin said gesturing to the music box.

"Yes, that would be wise."

Eren waited the two or three minutes Armin needed to bundle the music box in silence. Eren twiddled at the string around his neck holding his key. In all his talking to Armin, Eren barely remembered why he wanted to get closer to the blond. The two were supposed to be bonding and figuring each other out until the time would come. Eren knew that the right moment would not come that day, but he wanted to spend time with Armin nonetheless. They would learn what the key and chest meant at some point, so Eren's priorities lied more with if Armin was the right person for him over whether his key was the right kind for Armin's chest.

"Here you go. I hope her tune will never grow boring."

"I doubt anything from here will cease to amuse me," Eren replied, his breath just above a whisper as he dazed at Armin.

"Let's see if you mean that." Armin scavenged through a box of records and pulled out an unrecognizable disk for one of the working record players in the shop. The music flowed out of the bronzed horn. The quality had a tastefully scratchy vibe that heightened its smooth and classic melody.

"Let's see how long this can amuse you," Armin challenged. The blond grabbed Eren's hands and guided them to an open area of the shop to dance.

They swayed back and forth in the shop for as long as the record played. Neither ever broke eye contact, and both tuned into the other's comforts and ability to make sure they danced in sync. If Mikasa had seen them, she would have assumed they had months of choreographing, but they just continued to move as though the entire world depended on their feet moving.

Eren sighed when the record's side ended. "I saw Mikasa's drive by a minute ago. She's probably parked just now. I supposed I will see you soon?"

"When the time is right, I suppose. I still want to learn more about you."

"And when it's right, you'll tell me about you." Eren grabbed the bag with the using box inside. Eren walked back to Armin and leaned down to plant one kiss on each of Armin's cheeks. "Got that from the French," Eren teased before rushing out to go find Mikasa.

***  
 _" **Levi, look! Am I doing it right now?** " a young woman asked while she stretched her body in a arabesque-pose._

_" **You look stiff. Don't think about how I see you doing it. Just do it, Isabelle.** "Levi responded._

_" **Mm! Can you show me how? You make it look so easy,** " Isabelle pleaded, giving Levi her biggest puppy-dog eyes._

_Levi humphed, but he posed for her regardless. His leg extended behind him and balanced on the one still on the ground. Isabelle admired his iron stance, and Levi did not flinch a hair when the front door flew open and thudded back into place loudly, a very distraught man panting inside the studio._

_" **Farlan, what's wrong? What happened? You look pale** " Isabelle noted, rushing to the ill-looking man._

_" **P-papers. Levi, get your business papers. They've been coming to all the stores and businesses accusing the Jewish owners of being liars and doing illegal practices. They'll take this place away unless you convince them it's legitimate!** "_

_" **Get ahold of yourself, Farlan. You exaggerate.** " Levi ordered, his tone level and not revealing his internal panic. " **You and I know those filthy Nazi don't care about**_ papers _. A Jew is a Jew is a Jew. If not today, then they'll take away this place later because they don't trust any of us. If they don't take it away now, then they'll destroy it, now or soon"_

_" **L-Levi . . . They can't.** " Isabelle fought the tears in her eyes. _

_Farlan ground his jaw as he shook in place. " **They can,** " Farland agreed, his body slack from the impact of truth. " **Can you still just try to find the papers? Please, Levi? You don't want to give in already. I know you better than that.** "_

_Levi sighed and nodded. "I know. I carry them near lately. They're in a drawer in the other room. I'll go get them, but when I get back here I don't want to see you and Isabelle here. Take her and find somewhere safe. You two look like the last people anyone would think of as Jewish. If the store's still standing, I'll still be here. If this place isn't still here . . ."_

_" **Levi, we can't run away without you!** " Isabelle announced with tears in her eyes._

_" **We can, Isabelle. Trust Levi; he's the strongest person we know. We aren't like him. We need to go.** "_

_Isabelle wrapped her arms around Levi in a sudden burst, and she made sure to not let out a single tear. " **We'll see you soon, Levi,** " she promised as he let go, looking right at Levi._

_Farlan grabbed on of Isabelle's hand and led her to the back entrance. Isabelle spoke for both of them when she spoke, so Farlan said nothing more to Levi. Just as Farlan closed the backdoor behind himself, he heard the sound of loud and harsh yelling._

_" **To the usual hideaway spot?** "_

_" **Yes. Levi knows where it is. When he comes find us, maybe he'll continue your dancing lesson with you.** "_

_" **Maybe I'll learn enough in time for the recital in two weeks**." Isabelle smiled to herself at the thought. " **I heard they closed the national theater, but I'm sure we can still find a smaller one to let us preform. We've been planning this with all the other dancers for months, after all. If I do well there then I'll be good enough to be Levi's dance partner instead of just a student, right?** "_

_" **We'll let Levi decide those things. For now, close your yapper for a little bit**." Farlan ruffled Isabelle's ruby red tuffs of hair, and he grinned at her. Farlan loved when Isabelle spoke and joked, but he loved teasing her about her inability to stay quiet more._

_" **Fine, but I'll still scream everything in my head!** " she yelled. Her arms crossed over her chest and she made a "humph" sound, but she smiled, too._

_The two bickered and talked about trivial worries and small issues that none of the passing people suspected they were hiding in plain sight as people fearing for their lives._

_***_

_Bonus art by me_

_ _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all didn't like this chapter because I don't think I'll update this story ever again. In fact, the only story of SnK I'll post are for Kissing Eternity because that's with a great partner and maybe an occasional oneshot.


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